


The Dashing Knight and the Grateful Whore

by Eralk Fang (EralkFang)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Sexual Slavery, Slave Bikini
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EralkFang/pseuds/Eralk%20Fang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is this some fantasy of yours?” Hux taunts. “The dashing knight and the grateful whore?”</p>
<p>Ren is a grim and serious man, for all his outbursts, but the corner of his lip quirks upwards. “You certainly look the part.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dashing Knight and the Grateful Whore

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [the following prompt at tfa_kink](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=6123403#cmt6123403): 
>
>> While on a routine mission, Hux is captured by the natives and Kylo has orders to go save him. 
>> 
>> Kylo finds this hilarious... until he gets to the planet to find Hux wearing a skimpy outfit and nothing else... about he's about to get auctioned off to the highest bidder.
>> 
>> Kylo has never watched to fuck him more than he did at this moment.
>> 
>> After Kylo kills everyone involved (He's cheap like that), instead of instantly freeing the General, they have sex up on the auction stage while Hux is still chained up.
>> 
>> \+ Established Kylux plz - or they've been on the edge of it for a while.
>> 
>> \+ They add 'Sex Slave' to their list of approved Sex Games.
> 
> I CALL IT THE HUXKINI.

After two days chained up in this windowless but well-appointed room, the occasional scream of an unwilling slave in the hall outside as they’re dragged to the auction house’s floor has become so much background noise to General Hux. It only reminds him to focus on his breathing and whatever inventory he’s counting to keep himself sane and calm—Echani forms, every member of the Imperial Senate, the faces of every slaver in this cartel he’s going to personally murder once he gets out of this, licenses be damned. The only way out, Hux knows, will be through. There’s no escaping the manacles chaining him to the wall. Even if he managed that, the odds of besting the veritable squadron of hulking, reptilian Yinchorri outside with nothing but his bare hands is nil. In a few hours, he will be sold to the highest bidder, and it will probably be only in their bed, afterwards, that he’ll be able to kill them and escape.

That, he’s fine with. It’s the waiting that’s killing him. 

Whoever is screaming in the hall screams _again_. This time, the scream is followed by a strange, wet, slicing noise. As Hux tries to identify that, he suddenly hears the low and unmistakable hum of an unstable lightsaber. 

Hux never thought he’d be relieved to hear Kylo Ren. 

Hux closes his eyes to focus, trying to visualize the layout of the auction house from the scant bit of it he’d seen before they’d locked him in here. There were at least seven guards stationed in the hallway, but he’d been brought in during a busy auction—he has no idea how many slavers are on watch this early in the morning. 

Another scream, another guard dead. Hux stops counting senators and starts counting death throes instead, relishing them even as he wishes he was the one slicing them to ribbons. He counts seven dead guards and then, surprisingly, an eighth. He’d miscalculated. 

There’s a loud, reverberating banging noise, followed by a flurry of bare footfalls. The other slaves, Hux thinks, making their escape. Hux waits for his. 

Ren bursts through the door, and Hux feels such strange lurch of relief at seeing his familiar form that he has to cut at him. “Where the _hell_ have you been?” he demands, as if he’s been waiting for Ren to come rescue him instead of resigning himself to his fate.

Ren prowls the perimeter of the room, his lightsaber humming erratically. “They removed your tracker,” he says, by way of excuse. Hux knows that—they hadn’t bothered to anesthetize him to do it. When Ren finishes his inspection of the room, he turns and finally looks at Hux, powering down his lightsaber.

When he realizes what Hux is wearing, he tilts his great helmed head. 

Hux scowls at him. He can imagine how it looks, although the Yinchorri weren’t stupid enough to put him anywhere near a mirror he could break. But he’d seen the garment, a juvenile fantasy of scraps of cheap fabric attached to twists of metal, before they’d stripped him of his uniform, hosed him down, and strapped it onto him. What he’d initially taken for one piece had actually actually two. The metal belt lies low against his hips, the sheer purple skirt doing nothing to hide his modesty. The bra digs into his chest, and the chain around his neck clatters against it every time he strains at the restraints around his wrists. The Yinchorri hadn’t had a collar small enough for his neck, so they’d given him this makeshift one, just a chain looped around itself.

He hasn’t had much time to feel underdressed. While the Yinchorri had made it clear that their interest in him is prurient (was prurient, thanks to Ren), the climate on this planet is so blazingly hot that the Yinchorri he’s seen haven’t been wearing much. Besides, the difference of being the only human among them had outweighed anything else. But now, in the company of another human, he feels naked. More than naked—exposed.

Hux shifts uncomfortably as Ren just keeps _looking_ at him. “Get me out of these,” he orders.

Instead, Ren removes his helmet, as if to better savor Hux’s humiliation. He’s sweating, strands of his dark hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks. He crosses the distance between them to stand in front of Hux, eyes roaming his body. Ren’s gaze is sharp on Hux’s skin.

“Why did they give you a bra?” Ren asks, bemused. 

“They’re reptiles,” Hux scoffs. “They think all nipples are unbearably exotic.” 

“Mmm,” Ren says noncommittally, staring at his chest shamelessly, pressing his tongue into the corner of his mouth as if thinking. Hux jumps, or tries to, when one of Ren’s gloved hands reaches between them to press the metal cup into Hux’s flesh, the metal digging against his nipple. Ren’s leather-clad fingers trail along his ribs. Hux can feel himself start to flush and worse—he can feel a familiar heat start to coil low in his belly.

“What are you doing?” Hux demands.

Ren’s dark, unfathomable eyes flicker up to his briefly. “Picking up where we left off.”

Where they left off? Hux thinks back. Where they’d left off was an argument where Hux had finally given into temptation and punched Ren in the face. He can see the faint, healing bruise on Ren’s left cheekbone. Ren had shoved him against the nearest wall, his eyes glittering with anger, and his breath had been so hot on Hux’s mouth. Of course, duty had called right at that moment, separating them.

That night, Hux had dreamed it had not, that Ren had hurt him in return and taken his pleasure on him. “I thought I dreamed that,” Hux says.

“You did,” Ren says simply. “I saw.”

The notion that Ren has been watching his dreams should offend him, he knows, but the idea that Ren returns his interest intrigues him too much to care. The half-remembered dream of Ren fucking him until his vision goes white makes his cock stir and his skin prickle with heat. 

Ren presses their hips flush together, close enough that Hux can feel the frankly impressive bulge underneath Ren’s many layers, but not so close that Hux can grind against him. When he tries, Ren grabs him by the waist. Hux suppresses a gasp at the feel of the rough fabric against his sensitive skin. Ren smells like leather, Yinchorri blood, and scorched earth. It’s heady. 

“Is that you want, General?” Ren murmurs, pressing his thumbs into Hux’s side, rubbing his hands up and down him. “For me to bite you, bruise you, fuck you until you can’t stand?” 

Hux smirks at him. “For a start.” 

Ren lifts one hand off of Hux’s hips to grab him by the jaw, forcing his mouth open. Hux licks his lips in spite of himself. 

“Is this some fantasy of yours?” Hux taunts. “The dashing knight and the grateful whore?”

Ren is a grim and serious man, for all his outbursts, but the corner of his lip quirks upwards. “You certainly look the part.” Ren rubs his gloved thumb over his cheek, rasping against the two days’ worth of stubble on Hux’s face. “I thought they would have shaved you,” he notes.

“They’re reptiles,” Hux reminds him. “Mammals are exotic to them, hair, nipples, and all.” 

Ren nods. He releases his grip on Hux’s jaw to trace his jawline with his fingers, leaning in closely enough for his hot breath to ghost over Hux’s lips. Desire overwhelms him, and Hux instinctively tries to lean into his touch, tip his chin up to kiss him. Ren tilts his face away, denying him, and Hux’s manacles rattle as he pulls their chains taut trying to follow him. 

Ren smirks and slides the gloved hand still on Hux’s waist down his body and under the skirt, grabbing a good handful of Hux’s ass. Hux hisses and rolls his hips into the touch. His cock continues to stiffen. He can feel his face burning as Ren just takes him in, his dark eyes flickering up and down his body, cataloging him. 

All of this being handled, being unable to touch Ren back, is going to drive Hux mad with lust. His breathing is already labored and he’s already half-hard underneath the sheer skirt. When they get back to the _Finalizer_ , he promises himself, after he’s showered and shaved, he’s going to lock Ren in his quarters and indulge himself.

He deserves it, after the last two days. 

“Ren,” he says, “if you’re going to ravish me where I stand, might I have the use of my hands to return the favor?” 

Ren looks at him for a long moment, massaging Hux’s ass hard enough to make him shudder violently. At last, he nods and takes a step back, leaving Hux feeling cold and unattended. 

Ren gestures at the manacles with one hand and Hux glances up to see them open. He wrenches his wrists out of them, rubbing the joints tenderly. He’s been wearing the manacles for two days—the skin around his wrist is irritated and raw. 

There’s a sudden pull on his neck, and Hux glances up to see that Ren has grabbed the chain attached to his neck. He rattles it, smirking. _He must be loving this_ , Hux thinks, _having me on a leash_ , even as the thought of Ren cutting off his air with it inflames him. Ren could choke him with it if he’s not careful.

And Hux has never known Ren to be careful. Instead of filling him with dread, that notion sends a thrill up his spine and an ache into his cock. 

Ren pulls again, harder this time, and Hux stumbles forward on awkward feet. “You haven’t paid for me, Ren,” Hux taunts as he recovers his footing. He means it lightly, almost flirtatiously, a thread to pick up at a later date, when he’s back in his rightful place on the _Finalizer_ , clean-shaven, and not dressed in tawdry rags.

But two days in captivity has made him forget that Ren is a stranger to the arts of flirtation and implication. He is a blunt weapon of the Dark Side of the Force, and he is used to getting what he wants. Ren’s upper lip curves in an elegant sneer.

“I’ve paid for you in blood,” Ren growls.

A warm flush crawls down Hux’s body as he thinks of Ren doing with a lightsaber and the Force what he could not with blasters, fists, and, in the end, teeth. Of the power it took to slaughter the Yinchorri now lying dead in the hall beyond them, and of how that power flows through Ren as his birthright. 

And he notices that Ren’s hand on the chain is trembling ever so slightly. Hux smirks. He thinks he has the upper hand. Hux will disabuse him of this notion. _The dashing knight and the grateful whore, was it?_

“How may I please you, my Lord Ren?” Hux asks, sickly sweet. His smirk widens at the way Ren looks struck by those words. But only for a moment, before his grim mouth quirks upwards into a smirk of his own. 

“Better,” Ren says. He winds the chain around his fist, link by link, pulling Hux closer and closer to him until Hux presses their hips flush and winds his arms around Ren’s neck. The lacquered cotton of his cloak feels delicious against his skin. Hux tilts his chin up, face close enough to kiss Ren’s plush mouth, but doesn’t. If Ren wants to play this game, he’ll have to ask for what he wants. 

Or take it, Hux realizes, as Ren fists the hand not holding the chain in his hair and smashes their mouths together. He kisses with more urgency than technique, practically choking Hux with his tongue, but at this point, Hux doesn’t care—he just wants Ren. He grinds his hips against Ren’s, and is unsurprised to find that Ren’s fully hard too. Ren groans into Hux’s mouth and then pulls back, panting. 

“Do you like my mouth, my Lord Ren?” Hux asks in a mockery of placidity. “I can put it anywhere you like.”

“Yes,” Ren breathes. 

Hux smirks and slides his hands to Ren’s broad shoulders, pressing down. He revels in how Ren immediately yields under the pressure. “You’ve had a long day, my Lord Ren,” Hux coos nastily. “Rest, _rest_. Let me attend to your _needs_.”

He forces Ren to the floor slowly, mindful of how little he can actually stray from Ren without the chain tightening on his throat. When Ren finally sprawls onto the hard floor, Hux maneuvers himself between his powerful legs, kneeling. “I’ll need a little more give to suck your cock, my Lord Ren,” he says. Ren goes delightfully red at the edges, gorgeous mouth falling open. He nods and gives Hux some slack. 

Hux reaches down and parts Ren’s tunic. There are, as he expected, far too many layers for both this heat and a reasonable man, but he eventually finds the waistband of Ren’s pants. He unfastens them and tugs them down Ren’s slim hips just enough to get at Ren’s black underwear. It’s the only regulation garment Ren is wearing, Hux notices. He tucks a finger into that waistband, knuckles brushing against Ren’s flat, muscled stomach, and pulls over and down, freeing Ren’s impressive cock.

Hux licks his lips again, Ren’s musky scent going straight to his aching cock. He glances up at Ren, who’s risen onto his elbows to watch Hux. His dark, intent eyes are boring into him. Hux smirks at him and leans down, never breaking eye contact as he slowly runs his tongue over the head of Ren’s cock. Ren’s lips twitch as he pants.

He doesn’t want to try and fail to deep throat Ren. It’s a trick he has trouble performing at the best of times, let alone after two days in chains. Instead, he focuses on teasing him, licking long stripes up his cock and occasionally suckling at the head. When Ren leaks salty precome in his mouth, he smirks and licks his slit clean. Ren gives a long, low moan, and suddenly tugs at the chain, insistent enough to pull Hux’s head off his cock. 

Hux glares up at Ren, who, even with his face and mouth slack with lust, demands, “Shouldn’t you be putting on a show?” Hux blinks. He’s always been quiet during sex—it’s a side effect of military life. He doesn’t respond fast enough for Ren’s liking, so Ren tugs on the chain and smirks down at him. “Aren’t you enjoying your work? Aren’t you _grateful_ for my cock?”

Hux smiles nastily up at him. “Of course, my Lord Ren.” He takes the head of Ren’s cock into his mouth and makes a theatrical groan around it, knowing it’ll reverberate through him. Ren hisses and tries to press further into Hux’s mouth, making him gag. Hux pulls off his cock to clear his throat. He can feel Ren’s eyes on him, triumphant at that little failure. He ignores him and wraps his arms around the backs of Ren’s bent legs, tucking his hands into the creases of his thighs. Ren’s hips thus contained, Hux continues licking and sucking at Ren’s cock, moaning and humming dramatically. It doesn’t come naturally to him, but it wrings the prettiest groans and sighs out of Ren, groans and sighs that make his cock ache and throb. 

He lets Ren’s cock fall out of his mouth to swallow a mouthful of saliva and precome, grimacing a little at the taste. _Such a nice, thick cock_ , he thinks. He suddenly wants Ren in him as soon as possible, but Ren seems a little lost in the attention currently being lavished on his cock. If he doesn’t do something, Ren will come in his mouth, and then where will he be?

Hux runs his teeth along the thick vein on the underside of Ren’s cock. Ren snarls, yanking the chain upwards, choking Hux and forcing him to scuttle up Ren’s broad body. He lands awkwardly, sprawling over Ren, the rough fabric of his tunic dragging on his skin and making his cock ache and leak. 

_There are always ways to get what you want_ , Hux thinks. Such subtle manipulation is beyond Ren. He’s all brute force. Useful, but that use is limited. Luckily, Hux can think of a good use for him right now. Hux props himself up on his hands, pressed into Ren’s cloak on either side of his chest. “Impatient for the main event, my Lord Ren?” he prompts, and Ren blinks stupidly up at him for a moment. 

For a moment, he wonders if Ren’s somehow already come. But, eventually, Ren tugs on the chain, forcing Hux to tilt his chin up. “I want to split you open with my cock,” Ren tells him. He keeps pulling at the chain, and Hux repositions himself to sit just above Ren’s hips. He rolls his hips to grind his cock against Ren’s stomach and his ass against Ren’s cock. He shudders and stops, not wanting to come right then and there. 

Ren raises a gloved hand to his mouth and bites the glove off, spitting it onto the floor. Hux belatedly realizes he could have done that for him, that he _wants_ to have done that for him, but Ren’s big hand is already on his ass, groping him roughly. Hux bites back a whine as his cock pulses and leaks. He glances down to discover that the sheer fabric of the skirt has gone translucent with his precome. The sight makes him feel debauched and gloriously filthy. 

He grinds slowly against Ren’s stomach as Ren traces a path down the cleft of Hux’s ass with his fingers. Hux watches his face carefully, watches lust flicker across his face as it briefly overwhelms him. _Like a well-played instrument_ , Hux thinks.

Ren presses his fingers against Hux’s hole. Hux watches Ren blink furiously in surprise when his index finger slips in easily with the slightest pressure. “You’re ready,” Ren says, accusingly. “You were going to let them go through with this.”

Hux huffs, resisting the urge to clench around or fuck back onto Ren’s finger. “Yes, I stood such a chance against a whole cartel of Yinchorri slavers dressed in _this_. They weren’t going to keep me in a corner to look _pretty_ , Ren. Unlike you, I value my life more than my pride.” Ren traces his hole, sending shivers up his spine, and easily slips in a second finger. He’d managed four by himself, earlier, but that had been for his survival. 

This is for his pleasure, and Ren’s fingers fill him up just so perfectly. Ren scissors his fingers, perfunctorily, and then removes them. They’re quickly replaced by the wet, blunt head of his cock, and Hux surprises himself with a uncharacteristic moan. He’s been dreaming of Ren for too long, and his bed has been cold for even longer than that. 

He impales himself easily on Ren’s cock—he’d prepped himself for something even bigger than Ren’s impressive member. Ren makes a delicious strangled noise, cock twitching and leaking deep within Hux. 

“How do I feel, my Lord Ren? Am I to your _liking_?” Hux reaches down to pin down Ren’s free arm with his hand, gripping the impressive curve of his bicep. 

“Tight,” Ren chokes out, eyes rolling back into his head. Hux rises on his knees, which are planted on either side of Ren’s hips into Ren’s cloak, to tuck his feet against the inside of Ren’s thighs, effectively pinning him. He plants his right hand on Ren’s chest, pressing his weight into his palm. It’s an effective position, he’s found in the past, for riding someone senseless without them getting any silly ideas about who’s really in control.

With Ren’s power and size, he could easily overpower Hux, roll them over, and fuck him relentlessly into the floor. But he’d have to let go of the chain to do that, and Hux knows he won’t—Ren is mad for symbols in more ways than one. If Ren wants to insist on doing this right here, right now, and not at a civilized time in a civilized space, then he doesn’t _get_ a civilized fuck.

He gyrates his hips, and Ren almost _yelps_ , yanking on the chain. Hux coughs as it constricts his neck. He leans down over Ren to ease the pressure on his neck before setting a punishing, bruising pace aimed more at his pleasure than Ren’s. Hux savors the heavy drag of Ren’s cock against his inner walls and lets his eyes close when Ren’s cock brushes against his prostate. He arches his back dramatically to drive Ren deeper into him and continues fucking himself on Ren as if he’s Hux’s personal toy. 

Ren’s making whining, whimpering noises beneath him, head and shoulders falling to the floor as his elbows give out. When Hux clenches down around him, he groans, the noise reverberating throughout Hux’s body. Ren’s face has gone splotchy red, his hips straining against the weight of Hux’s legs as he tries and fails to thrust into Hux. “You feel so good,” Ren moans.

Hux leans down and smirks. “I know,” he says, and kisses him, savaging his mouth. 

Hux’s cock is throbbing, dripping, and red, but he ignores it, because watching Ren fall apart is almost enough for him. Ren gasps into his mouth when he rolls his hips again, and Hux breaks away from that lush mouth to fist a hand in Ren’s sweaty hair. Ren groans and buries his head in Hux’s neck, gasping. Hux grimaces triumphantly, face upturned, eyes closed. As if Ren could ever wrest the upper hand away from him. As if he couldn’t claw his way up from any degradation. As if he wasn’t the first of the First Order. Even after two days in chains, with no weapons at hand and dressed like a rumor of a dated pinup, he can still bend the Master of the Knights of Ren to his will with nothing but his words and his flesh.

Ren gives another low groan, and comes without warning, flooding Hux. Hux drops his head. The wet feel of Ren coming in him is almost enough to push him over the edge, but not quite. Hux slackens his pace a little to ride him through it, but when Ren’s cock softens within him, he makes no move to disengage. Instead, he straightens up, flicking his sweaty hair out of his face. Ren, pliant from orgasm, lets him, the links of the chain escaping his hand easily. Hux grabs the back of Ren’s head again, fisting his hand in his hair, and forces him back to his elbows. 

Only now does Hux peel the soaked skirt off his painfully aching cock and take himself in hand. “Open your mouth or I will come on your face,” Hux warns. Ren’s plush mouth opens so obediently that it only takes Hux a single stroke to come explosively, aiming between those obscene lips as his eyes slide shut. After he’s fully emptied himself into Ren’s mouth, he opens his eyes to appraise his aim. Ren is watching him, carefully, a smear of come on his lower lip.

It’s not an image Hux will easily forget.

He reaches down and wipes what Ren has managed not to swallow with his thumb, before sticking said thumb in Ren’s panting, red mouth. Ren sucks it clean without being told, as if he’s developing a taste for Hux. Hux’s shoulders relax. For the first time in days, he feels in control. 

He lets Ren’s head drop out of his hand and, at last, dismounts, Ren’s cock falling heavily out of him. He feels some of Ren’s come drip out of him, and it briefly goes to his head. He ignores Ren as he stands up, stripping out of, at last, the stupid outfit. He tugs the chain off and pulls it over his head to throw onto the floor. 

There’s a basin of water meant for the buyer on a table in the corner of the room. Hux cleans himself up as best he can with the small washcloth tucked under the bowl. He catches his distorted reflection in the curve of the bowl as he leans over it. He needs a shave. Even a quick shower is going to feel like a luxury after this. The weight of the filth of two days and riding Ren senseless feels heavy and oily on his skin. 

Hux hears Ren finally wrenching himself off the floor behind him. When Ren moves to stand behind him, he puts his hand on Hux’s waist, possessively. A stupid thrill runs through Hux. He’s going to have to manage this very carefully.

“That _hurt_ ,” Ren says. 

“If you’d waited until we got back to the ship, we could have done this on a bed,” Hux reminds him. “And I could have _bathed_.” Hux primly wipes his face with the washcloth, pointedly not offering to Ren. “Give me your cloak,” he orders.

“Why?” 

Hux throws the washcloth in the basin, spoiling the water, and turns to face Ren. “It’s bad enough I’ll have to walk back to the ship barefoot, but I am not going out there naked. Honestly, Ren.” 

Ren huffs, but ultimately obeys, stripping off the long cloak he’s wearing and draping it around Hux’s shoulders. Hux finds he quite likes Ren obediently dressing him. He’ll have to remember that. 

The garment falls open, and Hux presses it closed. He opens his mouth to ask for Ren’s belt, but Ren suddenly has the chain in his hands. He loops it around Hux’s waist, wrapping it twice around him. He tugs just a little too tightly and Hux grimaces at the little thrill that goes through him. Ren _would_ find a way to take it.

“We are going to go back to the _Finalizer_ ,” Hux says. “We got lost in the woods for two days. My uniform was destroyed. This never happened.”

“This never happened?” Ren asks, pulling Hux to him by his hips. 

“ _This_ will be expected in my quarters nightly,” Hux says. He smirks into Ren’s face. “That is, if my Lord Ren agrees?”

Ren’s consent is a vicious kiss. To Hux, it tastes like victory.


End file.
